


i got real big plans, baby (for you and me)

by salrob (hanbrough)



Category: High School Musical: The Musical: The Series (TV)
Genre: Adulthood, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, College, F/M, High School, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:28:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24065068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanbrough/pseuds/salrob
Summary: Ricky is pinning his campaign poster onto the board outside the band room when someone clears their throat behind him. Startling, he turns around to see an impeccably-dressed girl peering at him.“Hi,” the girl says, not even waiting for him to remove the two pins he’s holding in his mouth. “Nini. Guess we’re enemies?”Ricky blinks at her for a moment, and she raises an eyebrow, glancing pointedly behind him at his campaign poster. Turning back around, he notices it’s sagged on one side, having had only one corner pinned before the interruption.“Oh,” he says, turning back to her and nodding. “Ricky. That’s me.”--Or, Ricky and Nini throughout the years.
Relationships: Ashlyn Caswell/Kourtney, Ricky Bowen/Nini Salazar-Roberts, Seb Matthew-Smith/Carlos Rodriguez
Comments: 9
Kudos: 97





	i got real big plans, baby (for you and me)

**Author's Note:**

> this is inspired by one of my favorite t'chakia aus! and just for funsies:
> 
> -nini is a human rights lawyer  
> -ricky is an english teacher at east high  
> -kourtney is a barista/manager of the coffeeshop on columbia university's campus, and eventually opens her own shop in salt lake  
> -gina is a physics teacher at east high  
> -ashlyn is a singer  
> -idk what big red and ej do lmao but they're also working in salt lake  
> -seb is a dancer  
> -carlos is a software engineer  
> -gina and ricky met at nyu

**year, the first**

Ricky is pinning his campaign poster onto the board outside the band room when someone clears their throat behind him. Startling, he turns around to see an impeccably-dressed girl peering at him.

“Hi,” the girl says, not even waiting for him to remove the two pins he’s holding in his mouth. “Nini. Guess we’re enemies?”

Ricky blinks at her for a moment, and she raises an eyebrow, glancing pointedly behind him at his campaign poster. Turning back around, he notices it’s sagged on one side, having had only one corner pinned before the interruption. 

“Oh,” he says, turning back to her and nodding. “Ricky. That’s me.” 

He can see her visibly restrain herself from rolling her eyes. “Yes,” she says, and Ricky abruptly remembers the text on his poster: VOTE RICKY, HE’LL LEAD YOU TO VICTORY. Of course she knows who he is. 

“Student Council President?” she continues, and it’s only then that he realizes she’s carrying her own stack of posters. He can make out NINI at the top of the poster, but can’t see the rest of it.

“Yeah. You too?”

She smiles briefly, and nods. “I’m planning to become the first female Student Council President,” she explains. “So prepare to lose.”

“Alright, Nini,” he says, reaching over to shake her hand. “You’re on.”

\--

He does lose the Student Council presidential debate, later that week in the auditorium. He’d only joined the race thanks to Carlos and Big Red’s insistence, but Nini’s clearly here to win – in less than two minutes, she’s already destroyed the few campaign promises he came up with two days prior.

“Skate Sesh Friday would totally kill and you know it.” (A cheer from the crowd follows.) 

“It wouldn’t kill anyone but you,” she points out, wrinkling her nose. “Have you seen the state of the East High hallway? You’d skate two feet and then hit a piece of gum someone tossed on the ground the week before.” 

Okay, so she’s got a point. Point, counterpoint; the rest of the debate passes in pretty much the same way.

But voting for Student Council is a popularity contest, and no matter how many good points Nini makes, at the end of the day the student body remembers Ricky as the guy who played Troy Bolton in last year’s production of High School Musical, introducing Zac Efron’s surprise visit to the screaming crowd while his friends hooted and cheered backstage. They don’t remember Nini, always busy with Model UN practice and AP classes and the after-school tutoring program.

(They’re a bunch of high schoolers. The winner is clear.) 

After Ricky is announced as the new Student Council President, he finds himself running after Nini as she heads to homeroom.

“Nini!” he calls. “Wait!”

She pauses, and turns. For some reason, he thought she’d be crying, but her eyes are clear. “Ricky,” she says, and smiles. “No, it’s Mr. President now, right? Congrats.”

“Thanks,” he says awkwardly. “Uh, listen. You deserved to have won; you’re way better at this than me.”

(He remembers her campaign drives, giving speeches about outreach programs for students of color and free lunch for students who can’t afford it. He remembers his campaign drives, which mostly consisted of him giving people thermometers, telling people to “vote for him, it’ll be sick” and then cackling. She’s definitely better at it.)

“I should have expected it,” she says wryly, shrugging. “Most high schoolers don’t really care about these things. It was good public speaking practice, though.”

“No,” Ricky says. “Listen - they’re letting me pick the rest of my cabinet. Want to be my Vice President?” 

Nini blinks slowly at him. “Are you sure there isn’t anyone else you’d rather ask? You don’t even know me.”

“I know you’re legit,” he shrugs. “We could be a great team.”

“…If you’re sure,” she says slowly, still looking at him as though any minute now a cameraman for Punk’d will jump out from behind a locker.

“Positive,” he assures her confidently. 

“Okay,” Nini says. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

\--

**year, the second**

“Ugh,” Ricky groans, slumped over the table in the Student Council club room. “I hate AP Physics so much.”

Nini doesn’t even look up from the sheet of squiggly characters she’s perusing. “You’re the one who brought this upon yourself, dingus. Because you are an ‘awesome scientist slash genius’.” 

“And you,” Ricky grumbles, “have way too much free time on your hands for someone with so many APs and extracurriculars. Why are you even looking at that worksheet, anyway? Last I checked, you weren’t taking a language class.”

Nini snorts. “It’s Tagalog, the language of the Philippines, you idiot,” she says, but with no bite in her voice. “A couple of the kids I tutor at the community center are Filipino, and even though I know a little bit from my mom’s side, I want to get better. I thought it’d be fun; I can help them with their English and they can help me improve my Tagalog.”

“Fun?” Ricky repeats incredulously. “You’re doing this on top of debate practice, Model UN, and five AP courses. In senior year. Are you out of your mind?”

“It's not that impressive for the Ivy League,” Nini points out. “Aren’t you doing 5 APs too?”

“Unfortunately,” Ricky groans. “But I’m not doing all that extra stuff that you are, and I’m still dying over Physics.”

Nini sighs. “Will you feel better if I give you food?”

“Yes,” Ricky says, straightening in his seat immediately. “When did you start cooking?”

“Baking,” she corrects, pulling a container out of her bag. “I started during summer break and realized it helps with stress relief. I’m not that good yet, though.”

Ricky removes the lid, the smell of chocolate wafting out. “Brownies,” he breathes out excitedly. Picking up a piece, he bites off the corner. 

“You can’t go wrong with chocolate,” he says, and then turns back to his homework. “Alright, I’m re-energized now!”

Nini snorts. “Dumbass,” she says, but her voice is fond.

\--

Ricky loses a bet and is banned from getting a date for prom. (Big Red and Carlos thought it would be hilarious if the Student Council President, of all people, showed up dateless.) Not that he minds, but it does suck a little to be standing in the corner guarding his friends’ drinks while they’re dancing.

“Hey, partner.”

Ricky spins around, nearly spilling his juice onto his uncomfortable black blazer, and sees Nini. Her long, wavy hair has been tied back into a tight bun, and she’s wearing a soft dress that’s vastly different from her usual school attire. The back of Ricky’s neck grows hot for a second – summer heat, he thinks, ignoring the fact that it’s only mid-April.

“Um,” he says. “Hi. Nice night.”

Nini snorts. “No date?”

“Lost a bet.”

Laughing, she raises her cup of sparkling cider in mock-toast. “The dateless must stick together.”

Ricky grins. “What’s your reason – intimidated everyone away with your insane intelligence?”

Nini rolls her eyes and ignores him in favor of draining her cup.

“College,” she says instead. “Isn’t it scary? It feels like yesterday we were nervous freshmen stepping into East High for the first time.”

“I don’t think you’re scared,” Ricky points out. “You’ve already planned out your next few years, Miss Early Action. Me, on the other hand, I’m still figuring my shit out.”

Nini smiles, and lifts the cup to her lips. “Well, figure it out faster,” she jokes. “You better keep in touch, you hear?”

“Of course. Who else is going to banter back and forth with you? Besides,” he adds, “we might end up in the same state.”

\--

**year, the third**

The first leaves of fall are beginning to turn red when Ricky finishes packing up his room and his high school life, and drags the final box of stuff down to the waiting car.

“All ready to go,” Lynne says, smiling. Behind her, through the window, he can hear the sounds of Mike starting up the coffee maker.

“I’m gonna miss this town.”

“You can come home any weekend,” Lynne replies. “Besides, you won’t be alone in New York, right?”

“Big Red and Carlos are at Cornell,” he says. “And Nini’s in New York too, a 20 minute drive away.”

Lynne’s smile grows wider at the mention of Nini – she’d taken a liking to “her son’s only hardworking friend” the first time Nini had come over for a study session – and she ruffles Ricky’s hair.

“You’ll be okay with her. She’s extremely responsible.”

“And I’m not?” 

His mother laughs. “You try your best - that’s all that matters.”

\--

College life is insanely different from high school life, and Ricky already feels kind of overwhelmed after syllabus week. NYU doesn’t exactly have the smallest campus (in fact, it doesn’t really have a campus at all), and Ricky is always underestimating how much time it’ll take to run from his dorm room to the morning lecture.

His roommate, a tall water polo player named EJ, seems equally lost, and the two of them become fast friends trying to find campus buildings together. 

A month after school starts, Ricky staggers into the empty room after a particularly tiring lecture (EJ’s left for evening practice), flops down on his bed, and flips open his laptop. Nini had texted him earlier asking if he’d like to FaceTime, and he quickly sets up the call.

“Hey,” he says, grinning when Nini’s grainy image appears on screen. “How’s Columbia?”

Nini, predictably, lights up. “It’s incredible,” she says. “Everyone is so smart, and of course, how could I forget Ashlyn?”

“EJ’s cousin, right?” Ricky remembers. “It’s crazy how that worked out.”

“Aww,” a voice says off-screen, and a girl with curly red-orange hair pops into frame. “Are you only saying that because I can hear you?”

Nini rolls her eyes, and Ashlyn laughs.

“I’ll leave you to chat with your boyfriend,” she says. “Say hi to EJ for me?”

Before Nini can do more than splutter, Ashlyn gives one final wave and heads for the exit.

“Not my boyfriend!” Nini yells belatedly at the closing door. Ricky snorts.

“Definitely not your boyfriend,” he says, mock-seriously. “I’m not catching your cooties.”

She rolls her eyes. “Catching my cooties would be an honor, and you know it.”

Ricky smiles; he’s missed this back-and-forth. “How is Ashlyn?”

“Good,” Nini replies. “She’s currently prepping for her voice midterm - although I have no idea how that works. Also single, if 20-minute-apart-distance is your thing.”

“It’s not. Please don’t matchmake me.”

“Well, it was worth a shot,” Nini grins. “How’s NYU?”

\--

**year, the fourth**

The summer heat wafts in through the window, and Ricky lies on the floor of his room, the fan blowing straight at his face at full blast. He’s been back on summer break for a little over a month, and while he’d originally thought lazing around doing nothing would be fun, he’s really just bored to tears.

His phone buzzes, and he reaches for it to see a text from Nini. _Just got off from work_ , it reads. _Ice cream?_

_see u in 10_ , he types back immediately. Rolling over with a groan, he reaches blindly for a clean pair of shorts.

Nini is impatiently standing outside his house when he opens the door, still dressed in her work uniform.

“Hey,” he greets her. “How was work?”

“Boring, as usual,” Nini replies. “Can we go now? I’m dying.”

“Hold your horses,” Ricky grins, but follows behind her without complaint. 

The ice cream shop is full, so they end up sitting on a bench by East High, with the melting cones leaving trails of sticky-sweet residue down their wrists. Vaguely, Ricky wonders if this is what the best of summers feels like: the faint taste of chocolate chip ice cream in his mouth, a slight balmy breeze ruffling his shirt, and Nini’s laughter next to him.

\--

Sophomore year begins in a rush. Ricky feels a little more grown up than the year before; he’s living in his own apartment this time, a five-minute walk from campus, sharing a bathroom with EJ. Nini asks for his new address once he’s told her about the new place, but he doesn’t realize why until about a month into school, when a frazzled-looking mailman shows up at his doorstep with a large cardboard box.

EJ peers out from his room once Ricky has closed the main door. “Ooh,” he says, “package from the Columbia girlfriend?”

“For the last time,” Ricky grunts, struggling with the three layers of tape holding the box closed, “not my girlfriend.”

The box flaps spring open, and he pulls out a large Tupperware filled to the brim with cookies. Chocolate chip, his favorite.

“Want some?” he says, offering the container to EJ. “I can’t finish all of these, and I’m not sure when they expire.”

“Gladly.”

While EJ is trying the cookies, Ricky finds a small note at the bottom of the box, partially hidden by all the Styrofoam packing peanuts. _Enjoy the result of my post-midterms destress baking - I hope they shipped okay. Love, Nini._

_Oh_ , Ricky thinks, and his heart skips a beat. Then the moment passes, and he’s grabbing the container back from EJ before all the cookies are gone.  
  


\--

**year, the fifth**

_I’m not coming back for the summer this year - got an internship with the NY district court._

Ricky gets the text two weeks before finals, and doesn’t know why he feels a flash of disappointment. After all, it’s not like they can’t FaceTime or anything.

(Look at her, a tiny voice in his head says, look how she’s thriving while you’re still-)

He shuts up the voice in his head by drowning himself in study sessions. The knowledge that Nini won’t be around to hang out with while he’s bored, however, comes back to torment him once finals are done and he’s packing up his room.

“Get an internship,” EJ laughs when Ricky casually remarks that his summer feels very empty.

“I don’t want to become a corporate sell-out,” he replies, grumbling. “I want to actually do something helpful, man.”

Carlos gives him a look when he repeats the sentiment. “Get a job,” he says, sitting in Ricky’s kitchen and doing a terrible job of pretending like he’s not waiting for a text from Seb, some Cornell student he met at the LGBT students association.

Ricky snorts. “Get your act together and ask him out,” he retorts, and Carlos laughs at that.

“Joke’s on you, we’ve been dating for a month. Get your shit together and get an internship.”

“Wait- you and Seb have been dating for a- what?!”

“You’ll have to thank my drunk brain for that,” Carlos shrugs, but he’s smiling. “God knows why he said yes when I was on the verge of puking. But other than that, it’s been really good. We just get each other, you know?”

“No, not really.”

“Oh?” Carlos leans across the table with a devilish grin. “Not Nini?”

“No,” Ricky snaps back, a little more defensively than necessary. “She’s just my friend.”

Carlos rolls his eyes, but thankfully changes the subject. “Well,” he says instead, “I’m interning at this startup here in Salt Lake - I could put in a good word for you if you want...”

\--

**year, the sixth**

Ricky and EJ are ready to return from their road trip to their apartment the Friday before spring break ends, only to find out that the complex has been shut down for the weekend for repairs. 

“I have a cousin who lives in an apartment nearby,” EJ pulls out his phone. “He’ll let me crash for the weekend, but he only has one spare room.”

“Where am I supposed to stay then, genius? I’m not getting a hotel room in New York City.”

EJ smirks, a truly terrifying expression. “Well,” he says, “don’t you also know someone who lives here? Say, like, 20 minutes away?”

“…I hate you,” Ricky mutters, but he’s already got his phone out typing a message to Nini. 

_if i were, hypothetically, to be temporarily homeless, would you be able to let me sleep over?_

_when?_

_uh_ , he replies. _this weekend? i’ll come by in 20 min_

There is a worryingly long pause, and then: _OH MY GOD okay I finish lecture in the next ten minutes and then I’ll meet you on campus. here’s the address._

_thanks. u sure it’s ok?_

_ash’s on a date with that cute barista, Kourtney, who she’s been talking nonstop about. probably won’t be back for a while. we have a spare couch - don’t worry, you overthinking weirdo._

_ashlyn’s gay? why’d you try to set me up with her wth_

_*bi, and it was a joke!!! I’d never let her ruin her life by getting with you <3 _

_rude_

Half an hour later, he’s following Nini back to her apartment, having been dropped off at Columbia’s campus by an Uber driver. “I have one more class today,” she says, dropping a spare set of keys on the table, “but I’ll be back by 10. We can get takeout or something.” 

“Sounds good,” Ricky says. “Thanks again for housing my homeless butt.” Nini laughs, teeth flashing as she grins.

“No problem,” she replies, and then she’s gone back out the door. 

Ricky survives two hours of aimless scrolling through his Instagram feed before his stomach grumbles in protest. He looks in Nini’s fridge for a snack, but all she has are eggs and bread. _Hard boiled eggs on toast_ , he thinks, and fishes out two eggs. He doesn’t trust himself on the stove – his mother’s told him that he could probably burn water – so he places the eggs into the microwave and starts it up. 

A minute in, he hears a popping sound, and looks up to see his two eggs exploding all over the inside of the microwave. “Oh,” he says, phone slipping from his hands. “Shit.” 

He’s still cleaning up bits of the eggs when Nini opens the door and asks why the apartment smells weird. “I tried to make hard boiled eggs,” Ricky says, embarrassed. “But I only know how to use the microwave, so…” 

Nini stares, just for a moment, and then she starts giggling. “Okay,” she says, “let’s order the takeout first. And then I can help you clean up the rest of this mess.”

\--

**year, the seventh**

Graduation feels surreal. One moment he’s on the stage in an itchy satin gown, holding a piece of paper and shaking hands with the dean; the next he’s taping up the last box in his apartment and watching as EJ loads his own possessions into the back of his pickup truck.

“Aw,” EJ says, coming back up to the front door. “Gonna miss me? You’re frowning.”

“You’ve got a job in Salt Lake,” Ricky shoots back. “I can literally just meet you for lunch.”

EJ grins. “You gotta show me where to hang, man.”

“Of course.”

Ricky doesn’t mention that he won’t have a lunch break like EJ – it hangs, unspoken, between them, the fact that he doesn’t have a job yet. What are you going to do, EJ had asked a couple of days ago, and Ricky had sighed: I don’t know.

But then EJ is gone, taking one final road trip before starting his professional career.

\--

Home is a lot less relaxing now – now, his mother is less inclined to let him laze around the house, and has been fretting non-stop about his lack of a job. Well, not fretting, exactly, but Ricky’s not oblivious enough to miss the pointed glances and less-than-subtle attempts to bring up his employment status. It’s only been a couple of weeks, but he already misses the freedom of college, where he’s old enough to drink but young enough to not have to worry about adult responsibilities.

It’s also a lot less relaxing when Ricky finds out about the divorce, which had quietly taken place during his senior year.

“And you couldn’t be bothered to tell me the truth?” Ricky snaps, Lynne and Mike looking ashamed. “Trying to pretend we were still one big happy family up until graduation?”

“Honey, it’s not your fault,” Lynne says in an attempt to be soothing, but all it does is irritate Ricky more. 

“Well, it sure feels like it is,” he says, and storms out of the room, running upstairs to his childhood bedroom and stuffing his face in his pillow. Immediately, he feels childish.

A little while later, the doorbell rings.

“Ricky,” his mother calls from the living room. “Nini’s here to see you.” Groaning, Ricky rolls off the bed, where he’d been wallowing in both the revelation of the divorce, and the worries about unemployment.

“Hey,” he says, stepping into the living room to see her sitting on the edge of the sofa, looking strangely nervous.

“Hi,” she says. “I have to tell you something. Outside?”

This is strange, because usually Nini has no problem telling him things in front of his family. But she hasn’t smiled once since coming in, so it’s probably serious. Nodding, Ricky follows her out the door and pulls it tightly shut.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, no, everything’s great. How is the job search? I didn’t think you’d want me to ask you with your mom nearby.”

(Well, yes, she’s got a point. Ricky really doesn’t want his mother to know that he’s been procrastinating job applications.)

“No success yet,” he says instead. “You?”

Nini looks down at her scuffed shoes.

“I’m… I’ve been accepted into Stanford Law.”

Ricky gapes. Blinks, then gapes again. “Congratulations,” he gets out. “Looks like it’s semi long distance for us again, huh.”

“Yeah, about that. I’m, uh… I’m actually starting a year from now; I’m taking a gap year.” She pauses, and then, all in a rush: “I’ll be interning with the Philippine Alliance of Human Rights Advocates first, for a year.”

The back of Ricky’s neck grows cold.

“The UN had openings with various human rights organizations,” Nini babbles on, “and they were specifically looking for someone who would go to the Manila office, and I wanted to practice my Tagalog and get closer to my culture, so I applied. I didn’t think I’d get it, it’s kinda insane, the acceptance email only came in yesterday-”

(Look at her, a tiny voice in his head says, look how she’s thriving while you’re still-)

“Of course you’d get it,” Ricky says, though he can’t stop his voice from sounding hollow as he remembers his own half-empty resume, his own inability to find jobs that he cares about. “You’re a Columbia graduate, with honors, you volunteer everywhere and you’ve done so many internships, you’re-”

“Are you upset?” Nini asks, cutting him off with a slight frown.

“No,” he replies defensively, just a tad too quick to sound natural. Her frown deepens. “You’ll be away for a whole year doing really important stuff, living your best life – good for you, I guess. It’s just- everything’s changing really fast, now, and I didn’t expect this, are you sure you thought it through-”

_I can’t FaceTime you when you’re 13 hours away,_ he does not say. _I can’t talk to you about my parents’ divorce. You can’t send chocolate chip cookies from Manila. You’re my voice of reason, what am I going to do without you?_

“I’ve been fighting for human rights and interning with various related organizations for years, Ricky, this isn’t some random scheme I came up with off the top of my head. How dare you suggest that I decided on a whim to move to the other side of the world for a year?”

He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. He clenches his jaw shut again.

“Everyone is changing,” Nini continues, her pitch rising. “Maybe if you actually applied for a job instead of waiting for a handout, for someone to offer you a job on a silver platter, you’d be changing too.”

That hits like a slap in the face, and Ricky has to breathe deeply through his nose for a few seconds before he can reply. “So you’re going halfway across the world to do what, community service?”

“I’m making a difference,” Nini snaps. “I’m so lucky to live in this country where I can go to school and get a job, while in other parts of the world children have to go to work in terrible conditions because their parents don’t earn enough, and people are silenced by their government just for speaking out. I want to help change that. What’s your problem, Ricky?”

“Maybe I just don’t want you to go.”

“Well,” Nini returns, voice cracking. “Maybe you should consider that I can make my own decisions. For myself.”

“Fine,” Ricky snaps.

“Fine!”

Nini's eyes narrow. _Wait_ , Ricky wants to say, _don’t go, I didn’t mean to get angry- I’m just so stressed out-_

But with a few angry steps, Nini’s disappeared down the block.

(He finds out from Carol and Dana, later, that Nini had flown off for Manila the next day. It feels like the start of an eternity.)

\--

Ricky does not receive a text asking to FaceTime. He buys a package of store-bought chocolate chip cookies, and eats them while stressing out over his cover letter. They’re sweeter than he’s used to, and somehow the flavor is less robust.

It tastes empty.

\--

**year, the eighth**

“Gina.”

There’s a groan on the other end of the line as his former lab partner - and current Physics teacher at East High - picks up the phone. “Ricky? It’s 8 in the morning on Saturday, is there an emergency?”

“No, but guess what? I got the job at East High!”

“Congrats, Ricky! Now we’ll be colleagues!”

“Yeah, and I have an idea of a program we can host when I start the job.”

“That’s great, Ricky, but can this wait? I pulled an all-nighter yesterday grading and-”

“What if we started a support group for students with familial issues? I mean, you and your mom moved around a lot, and never really got the chance to find stability. And mine just got divorced, so I know firsthand the struggle of being fucked up from that.”

There’s silence on the other end. Then…

“...Tell me more.”

\--

It turns out that setting up the after school program is not as easy as Ricky thought it would be. Returning to his old high school six years later isn’t, either, especially with the dwindling budget cutting away at the humanities-related classes and extracurriculars. But with Gina’s expertise and help, he’s able to get the project off the ground. Slowly but surely, students sign up to join, and Ricky feels a thrill at the fact that he finally gets to help people the way he’s always wanted to. 

(Nini never calls or texts. Ricky tries to not let it bother him, and goes back to looking for cheap plastic ukuleles.)

Ricky’s kind smile, gentle laugh, and knowing glances soon make him the favorite of the school; students love coming to class early in the morning for the chance to chill with Mr. Bowen. ~~Miss~~ Jenn and ~~Mr. Mazzara~~ Benjamin stop by in the faculty lounge - man, Ricky really can’t get over the fact that his former teachers are now his coworkers - and he updates them about his life. 

“How’s Nini?” Jenn asks casually one day during their lunch break. Ricky promptly chokes on his rice.

“Fine,” he wheezes out after a good thumping on the back and drinking some water. “She’s at Stanford Law right now.”

“Are you two still friends?” Benjamin asks, giving him a knowing look. 

“Yeah,” Ricky eventually gets out. “We are.” 

He isn’t sure if he’s telling the truth.

\--

**year, the ninth**

Seb proposes to Carlos just as winter is shifting to spring, the first flowers beginning to peek through the soil. It’s a simple vintage diamond ring, and Carlos glows every time he looks at it on his finger.

The wedding takes place three months later, a simple ceremony in the garden of Seb and Carlos’ new home. Ricky and Big Red are the best men, and everyone is smiling.

After the vows have been said, and as the wedding cake is being cut up to serve, Ricky catches a glimpse of fuchsia, and turns to see Nini in a gorgeous dress, laughing at something Gina is telling her. She looks up, catches his gaze, and freezes for a second, before she says something to Gina and starts moving towards him.

“Hi,” he says stupidly when she approaches. “You’re back.”

Nini smiles wryly. “I’m almost done with my first year at Stanford, but yes.”

“How was Manila?”

“Oh, it was wonderful. My colleagues were lovely, I got to try a lot of good food and had some really good cultural experiences, I made a lot of friends; what’s not to love?”

They’re dancing around the elephant in the room. “Uh,” Ricky says, preparing to bite the bullet, “I owe you a long-overdue apology. For, um, the shit I said last year. I was stressed out and I took it out on you, and the longer I left it the weirder it felt to bring it up, especially over text.”

_I missed you,_ he almost says, but it doesn't feel right to voice aloud.

Nini’s shoulders sag. “I’m sorry, too,” she says quietly. “I said some things that were out of line. And I didn't know about your parents’ divorce; I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“Can we start over?”

Nini laughs and holds out her hand. “I’m Nini,” she says. “Nice to meet you.”

“Ricky.”

The warm almost-summer breeze smells like chocolate chip ice cream on a sunny day, and it feels like a new beginning.

\--

**year, the tenth**

Summer draws to a close, and Ricky finds himself perched on his front porch, eating ice cream with Nini. She’s brought over a container of cookies, too, and they’re snacking away happily.

“One more year of law school left, huh.”

“Yep,” Nini says, licking her strawberry ice cream. “Then I’m done with school for good.”

“Where are you going, after? I heard the UN invited you back to work at their New York office.”

“Yeah, they did,” Nini replies. “But I think I want to work more locally.”

“Right.” He pauses, then: “Wait, so that means you’re staying here?”

She whips around to study him with narrowed eyes. “Does it matter?”

“No,” he says, “it doesn’t, and it shouldn’t.” (He knows that now.) “Just- I’d miss you if you left, I guess.”

Her eyes soften slightly. “Yes,” she says. “It’s the Utah district court, so I won’t be going anywhere. And I’ll admit that it’s been a while; I’ve missed home.”

“Oh.” To cover up the awkwardness, he grabs another cookie. “That’s good. You should, uh. Bake more, now that you’re back.”

She laughs, now, and bats his shoulder. “I knew you only hung out with me for my baked goods.”

“Of course,” he says cheerfully. “Bake some muffins. Branch out.”

“You know what,” she says, looking thoughtful. “Maybe I will.”

\--

**year, the eleventh**

“Did you know Kourtney is opening a coffee shop here?”

“Kourtney, as in Ashlyn’s fiance?” Ricky says, twirling his spaghetti. “It’d be nice to have some local coffee that isn’t Starbucks. Where’s it gonna be?”

“It’s where the old ice cream shop was. You know, the one we went to almost every day the summer after our first year of college?”

Abruptly, Ricky flashes back to simpler times, of two nineteen year olds without a care in the world. “They’re closing it down?”

“Sal, the owner, retired,” Nini informs him as she takes a bite out of her sandwich.

“Oh,” Ricky says. “We had a lot of good memories there.”

“We did,” Nini reminisces, smiling. “But at Kourt’s place, we can make new ones.”

“Right,” Ricky laughs awkwardly. Suddenly, he gets an idea. 

“Hey,” he says. “I don’t know how long it will take for Kourtney to get the place up and running, but maybe - since you always bake big batches anyway, instead of feeding them all to me, why don’t you sell them to her? I’m sure she’d appreciate it more than a baker who’d charge her extra.”

Nini blinks at him. “You’d pay for my baking?”

“Of course I would,” Ricky responds. “More than worth it.”

“Hmm,” Nini replies. “I’ll think about it.”

\--

Kourtney has threatened him on multiple occasions to resort to drastic action to get him to ask Nini out. Ricky doesn’t want to explain that their friendship is complicated (partially because he doesn’t even know, himself, how to describe it), so he just nods and hopes that Kourtney doesn’t carry out her plan soon.

Kourt’s Koffee has been closed for a Christmas party this year, and Ricky is helping Gina put the final touches on the tree in the corner. The door opens, and Nini’s there with a large cake box in her hands. 

“Oh!” Kourtney exclaims, getting up from where she’s currently lounging. “Ricky, you should help Nini with her cake, it looks heavy! The table for the cake is over there in the corner.”

Ricky rolls his eyes, but acquiesces; it’s not like there’s much left to put on the tree, either. Big Red offers to take his place, and starts detangling the fairy lights.

“What cake is it today?” he asks, plucking the cake box from Nini’s hands and walking with her to the table in the corner.

“Vanilla,” she says, “with gingerbread cookie decorations.”

“Sounds great.”

They reach the table, and Nini takes a cake stand out from her bag. Carefully, the two of them maneuver the cake out of the box and onto the stand, before Nini pulls out a delicate gingerbread topping from a smaller container and places it atop the cake.

“Oh my god, Ricky,” Ashlyn calls out just as Ricky’s about to step back. “Look up!”

He looks up, and- oh. There’s a small sprig of shiny leaves and white berries dangling from the lights, right in front of the cake table.

“Mistletoe,” he deadpans, and Kourtney whoops, breaking out into an enthusiastic rendition of Kiss the Girl. Laughing, Gina and Ashlyn join her.

“No,” he says, then louder and sharper: “Guys. Stop interfering.”

The girls shut up at once, surprised, and Ricky narrows his eyes at them. Beside him, Nini fidgets with her dress awkwardly, and his attention immediately shifts. “Nini,” he says quietly, “back door?”

“…Sure,” she says, and follows him out. It’s cold outside, and their breath comes in little puffs.

“Why’d you snap at them?” Nini asks, once they're both outside, out of earshot from the rest of their friends. “Does kissing me really gross you out that much? You’d only have to do it on the cheek.”

Ricky is slightly thrown off by this, and his traitorous brain suddenly imagines what it might be like to kiss Nini.

“No,” he says, hoping his blush isn't as bright as it feels. “It’s not that. It’s… Well, I don’t even know what I feel right now, really. But I know that I missed you a lot when you were at school and even more so in Manila. I know that I can’t ever eat a chocolate chip cookie from the store again because they all taste empty when they’re not made by you. I don’t know what kind of label to put on it, but I… well-”

Nini’s laughter cuts him off, and when he looks at her her eyes are sparkling. “You dummy,” she says. “I don’t know what I feel, either. We’ve had more than 10 years to figure something out, but we haven't. But I do know that I’d like to go and grab a coffee with you sometime, I think.”

“We grab coffee all the time. Your former roommate’s fiancee runs a coffee shop.”

She rolls her eyes.

“No, like a date kind of coffee.”

“Oh.” He pauses. “And ice cream after?”

Nini smiles. “And ice cream after.”


End file.
